


Tonight

by prototyping



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Handholding, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Sleepovers, hints of angst I guess??, post-kh3, that 0.2 opening got to me man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: They don't say anything, but they don't really need to. Aqua, Terra, Ventus, and some much needed healing. Post-KH3.





	

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _The only thing worth holding onto is holding onto me._  
> 

It's something she and Terra have done since they were kids -- or did, past tense, up until they were teenagers. The habit was reinstated shortly after Ven came to the Land of Departure, at the time including all three of them, but following the trio's return to their home months ago, they haven't done it since.

But tonight, with all three of them restless and looking for comfort -- Terra from his nightmares, Aqua from her memories, Ventus from his insomnia -- it's inevitable, maybe unavoidable. It starts with Aqua shaking Terra awake, frowning and concerned when he bolts upright in a sweat; it falls into place when Ven wanders through the doorway, the usual shrug and typical smile doing little to hide his sleepless unease.

They're not as conscious of space as they used to be. Terra leaves the other two more than enough room in the large bed, but Aqua settles in comfortably against his chest with her head on his arm. Likewise, Ven has no qualms with climbing in behind her and lying flush against her back, his forehead resting between her shoulder blades. A skinny arm wraps around her waist and Aqua finds his hand to hold it tight.

Terra pulls the sheet up over all of them as cool relief from the summer night drifts in through the window. Shuffling in place a bit, Aqua sighs quietly and feels the last of her unconscious tension melt away. There was a time when the sound of a voice besides her own was strange and foreign, the warmth of someone's touch a nearly forgotten sensation.

After returning to the Realm of Light, it took her a while to readjust to such simple things. More than once, Ven merely walked into a room and startled her badly enough that she summoned her Keyblade on reflex; Terra made the mistake -- only once -- of sitting on the edge of her bed while she was sleeping. Even Master Eraqus, with his steady and calming presence, had to bark at her to back down during a sparring session when she didn't realize how hard and desperate her strikes had become, or that she had jumped straight into using high-level spells.

She hasn't sparred with anybody since.

They all have those things now. They've all changed, in some ways smaller than others. Terra lacks his usual energy in the morning and doesn't smile as often as he used to. When he does, it usually requires prompting. Aqua's not sure how much Ven sleeps these days, but she knows it’s too little to be healthy. She's noticed the light in his room at all odd hours of the night, for one. For another, he's always the last to retire in the evening and the first to rise in the morning, unlike in the past.

The Master may be the only one who's still one hundred percent himself. It's no secret that he mourned Xehanort in his own way in spite of all that transpired, but even that was done with his usual dignity and poise. Neither does it stop him from listening to Aqua anytime she needs it, or talking late into the evening with Terra, or asking for Ven's company on some small task during sleepless nights.

He's been there for them, like always, but there are some small comforts that they can only give and get from one another. Like tonight.

They don't say anything, but they don't really need to.

There's a gentle, careful touch to Aqua's shoulder. Ven's fingertips, carefully tracing a line over her skin -- and then she remembers the scar that's there, faded but no less permanent. A reminder of one of her more desperate moments.

She feels the cool brush of healing magic under that touch, subtle and fine. It makes her smile -- his control over it has really improved since she first taught him so many years ago -- but it also breaks her heart a little. _It's okay, Ven,_ she murmurs.

The magic fades and the movement stops. A moment later Ven slides up just enough to settle his chin on her shoulder, his temple against her cheek. His hold around her middle tightens and she feels his silent sigh.

Terra slips his arm over their sides as he ducks his head, nestling down and burying his face against both Aqua's and Ven's hair. It's a snug fit for Aqua, but it's as comfortable as it is comforting. Ven's warm breath on her skin, Terra's strong and steady pulse where her forehead rests against his neck, their arms crisscrossing over her while the heat of their bodies cradles her protectively in-between -- it's impossible not to feel safe and utterly content here, their worst memories and fears now a million miles away from where the three of them lie.

She untucks her legs from where she's kept them close to her hips, stretching out a little ways -- enough to slide one behind Terra's knee, another over both of Ven's, and then tugging them gently into a three-way tangle. Both boys concede.

Like Terra, she still dreams of bad things sometimes. She dreams that she never makes it out of the Realm of Darkness, that Ven is left alone in his chamber and never wakes up. She dreams of coming back to the castle only to find that she can't remember where he is. Some have been worse, although fortunately rare. She's awoken more than once in a late night panic, hurrying down the hall to Ven's room to make certain he's truly all right. He's usually still awake.

Aqua’s died many times in her dreams. Sometimes beneath a horde of Heartless, sometimes at the hands of her best friends, possessed and smiling at her with a golden-yellow gaze.

Tonight, she doesn't dream. Or if she does, she has no recollection of it in the morning. If she does, it's a dream of warmth and security, comfort and trust.

* * *

Ventus stirs to find that they've rolled into a mess. He wakes much faster these days, no longer requiring a dozen nudges and the promise of a warm breakfast to get him out of bed, and today is the same.

Blinking awake, he discovers the other two still fast asleep. He ended up clinging snugly to Terra sometime during the night, who's now the centerpiece with Aqua nearly on top of him.

Ven starts to unwind himself from the dogpile, but quickly stops when he realizes that Terra's head has fallen to rest on his. He also has an arm securely around Ven's shoulders -- the other lies across Aqua's back -- and at that point it seems like a useless effort. Honestly, Ven's a little surprised that Terra chose to sleep, but he must have needed it.

So Ven stays as he is. He doesn't mind. He watches Aqua's peaceful face as his thoughts drift here and there and nowhere in particular, noting the almost-smile on her lips and the way her hair has fallen across her eyes. He reaches across Terra's chest to take her hand and hold it.

It’s not as soft as it used to be. He noticed it before, but now Ven really considers it, running his feather-light touch over her palm, her knuckles, her fingertips. Her hands are more like Terra's now -- no... more like the Master's. Covered with scars that are almost smoothed over from so much use.

They all have them. Aqua's hands, that one he discovered on her shoulder last night; he's seen the jagged, white line on Terra's chest, the phantom slash of what looks uncomfortably like a Keyblade's edge. Ven has a couple he's kept to himself, although there's no hiding the shadow that cuts up across his jawline, the memory of a clipped, final farewell from Vanitas.

Ven only jokes that it makes it easier to tell him apart from Roxas.

But the nick on his chin, the thin cut that curves along his right hip, the splatter-shaped patch of too-pink skin over his heart -- they're scars, but he doesn't think of them as such. He's scarred more inside than out, he thinks. They all are.

Aqua doesn't train with them anymore. He notices the way her shoulders go stiff when he accidentally sneaks up on her.

Terra always looks tired. When they first came back, Ven rotated between sleeping with him and Aqua, as he used to do, up until the night of a certain incident. Since then Terra's only been more restless, and Ven's attempts at consolation seem to make it worse.

As for Ven himself, he knows it's fear that keeps him up at night. Fear of not waking up, fear of losing another decade of his life to time. It's an irrational fear, he knows, but that's probably what most fears are. And there are just some nights where he honestly doesn't need to sleep, although he can't say whether it's a result of his long slumber or simple insomnia.

Last night was different. He felt comfortable, safe, and those few wavering moments on the edge between waking and sleep were peaceful and reassured.

Like now. He's not really tired, but the steady beat of rain against the windows makes him twice as comfortable in his warm niche. Tugging his corner of the sheet up to his chin, Ven buries in closer to Terra's side while still holding Aqua's hand. He closes his eyes and welcomes the chance for a little more sleep, no longer afraid.

* * *

Terra wakes with a start and a pang of guilt.

He rises partway before noticing that he's bogged down with weight -- two weights, one on his chest and another on his left shoulder. He stops, reconsiders, and then after a hesitant moment lies back again, but his eyes stay open.

He didn't mean to fall asleep. He thought he wouldn't be able to, so watching over the other two seemed safe enough.

Ven and Aqua haven't stirred at the interruption, at least. Terra's glad to see Ven undisturbed in particular, well aware that he needs the rest.

_Then again, we all do._

He didn't ask Aqua what she'd been doing in his room prior to waking him. It's possible she heard him, but if Terra was crying out in his sleep then Ven would have come running, too. No... it's more likely that Aqua was making some worried rounds down the halls again.

Terra sighs soundlessly. He's still tired, but he's dead-set against drifting off again. Lucky though he was to have a peaceful sleep just now, he doesn't want to push that luck. Not with them here.

He looks at Ven with a light frown. For all the growing up he's done and the subtle changes that the last few months have brought to his face, he's suddenly reminiscent of that quiet, vulnerable kid who came to the castle so many years ago. Even the way he's nestled up against Terra's side for heat and comfort -- he did the same back then on sleepless nights.

Although, Terra acknowledges with a silent laugh, Ven would vehemently deny it if it was ever brought up elsewhere.

But the humor fades as quickly as it came, cut short by the recollection of the last time they shared a sleeping space. Following their return, Ven came to his room more than once, and it didn't take Terra long to realize that he wasn't looking for sleep -- he was looking for company because he _couldn't_ sleep. Ven's always been the type to get lonely fast.

Terra didn't call him out on it. He let him stay. Some nights Ven would sit in the window, on others he would read in the corner under a lamp, and at times he would sit or lie quietly beside Terra until morning. It was during the last of these that Terra, much like last night, awoke from a nightmare in a confused frenzy. Ven, of course, tried to snap him out of it, and in his panic Terra struck him hard enough to knock him to the floor.

Ven assured him several times that it was fine. He insisted that it hadn't hurt, even joked about being made of tougher stuff than that -- but worse than Ven's bruises was the blow to Terra's confidence.

He took to locking his door after that, pretending not to hear when Ven came knocking.

Terra knows he overreacted. He knew it then, too, but that didn't stop him from stubbornly sleeping alone up to last night. Not that this necessarily changes things.

He stares up at the ceiling, listening to the light rainfall and the sound of his friends' breathing. Ven shifts a little and tugs Aqua's hand closer; after a moment she stretches her legs out, groaning something illegible, but only pulls the sheet further up rather than waking.

Silence and stillness fall again, but it's peaceful, not awkward or lonely.

It's the same, Terra realizes suddenly. This uncomfortable tension he's been harboring. The fear of hurting others, the anxious uncertainty of what he's capable of -- he's felt it all before. It's the same weakness that pushed him away from his friends so long ago, back when he should have run _to_ them rather than _from_ them for strength.

_Makes me wonder... if I've learned anything, after all._

He looks again at his friends and wonders what they’d say if they could read his mind right now. They would reassure him, no doubt. Tell him there’s nothing to fear, that they’re always here for him. Things he already knows.

He studies Aqua in particular, following the soft curves of hair that trail across her temple and over her cheek. Slowly, he unwraps his arm from her middle, and with care he runs his fingers through the strands, a partially absent motion.

She’s scared, too. Scared of sparring with them -- she’s either afraid that she can’t hold herself back, or that she can’t hide what she’s been through.

Terra looks at Ven. He hides it better with his smiles and playful nonchalance, but there’s a kind of fear in his behavior, too. Fear of his friends finding out how much the night scares him, of worrying them.

They’re all afraid, Terra realizes. He’s not alone in that regard.

* * *

Aqua wakes at a distant clap of thunder. Her shoulders tighten with tension for the few muddled seconds before she places the sound, and then the loud patter of raindrops on the windowsill pulls her the rest of the way into reality. She untangles herself from her two friends and slides to her feet as gracefully as she's able -- which isn't much when her limbs are still heavy with sleep, her balance is a bit disoriented, and she's blinking in the overcast daylight. She stumbles her way to the window.

She's rewarded with a spray of cold rainwater to the face that does wonders in waking her up completely. Eyes narrowed against it, she grasps the window in both hands and tugs. It lowers half an inch.

With a grunt she pulls again -- another half inch -- and this time the wind picks up to send some icy droplets down the front of her shirt. She bites back most of her startled yelp as she leaps backwards, only to collide with something and yelp again. She whirls about to find Terra, who's reaching around her and taking hold of the stubborn window.

_It sticks,_ he informs her, belatedly.

Together they manage to close it, although by then Aqua's arms and neck are decently damp. She leans against the sill, trembling slightly -- as much from the chill now in her bones as from the scare Terra gave her -- and the touch of his warm chest against her back tells her he's lingering with her.

She hears him ask if she's alright. It would be a casual inquiry, but she senses the concern running in his voice. After a moment she stills her shivers and nods. When she moves away, he lets her go.

Ven's still in bed, although wide awake. Aqua flashes him a smile as she sits on the mattress edge to dust the water drops from her arms. He runs a hand over one of them, observing her goosebumps. _You’re freezing._ She butts her head gently against his, assuring him she's fine, but he wraps his arms around her shoulders to encase her in the sheet with him. His upbeat and sly smile says he's not letting go anytime soon. He's warm enough that she doesn't mind.

When Terra starts to sit beside them, Ven opens one side of the personal blanket fort to invite him in -- and, being Terra, he accepts by way of tackling them both onto the bed. There's a fit of laughter as they try to untangle from the blanket as well as one another, but it doesn't take long for them to give up.

Aqua finds herself nestled under Ven's chin, his arms still hugging her shoulders. Terra lies half on top of her, his temple against the pulse in her throat and his breath on her collarbone. She holds him there by running her fingers lightly through his hair; she reaches up to do the same for Ven, smiling as she nudges him down to join them properly. He occupies her other shoulder, but the double weight is comforting. Slowly, deliberately, she finds both their hands and threads her fingers through theirs. Ven reaches over to do the same with Terra, completing the circle, their joined palms flat against her stomach. She notices Ven’s hand is still dwarfed by Terra’s in comparison. That much hasn’t changed.

They both look at her when she suddenly laughs under her breath, but she only smiles and holds them a little tighter. She can tell they’re fully awake, everybody’s much needed sleep now past. Even so, it’s not until the rain slows some half an hour later and orange sunlight begins to paint the opposite wall that a reason for speaking is found.

_Aqua. Ven._ Terra’s low voice rumbles through his chest, against her own. _I think we should all talk._

_About what?_

A pause -- and then he leans up on his elbow, still holding their hands. He looks between the two of them patiently, evenly, and Aqua can see in his eyes that it’s no small matter. Even before he answers, she knows what it’s about.

And she’s glad. If he agrees to talk, then Ven will, too -- and it’s long past time they all stopped sweeping over their scars and hiding their vulnerabilities.

_Everything._


End file.
